The Life of Me
by Lem Willing
Summary: A fictional autobiography based upon my life, its experiences, and the horrible outcome of watching Barney.


Chapter 1 - Birth

There was really not that much special about me when I was born. The usual things happened that happens at most other people's births. The forgetful father remembers that the baby is due that day, leaves work in a hurry with no explanation, and comes home only to find his brother-in-law had taken her to the hospital. After much furious driving and speeding tickets, he comes to the hospital. He is so out of breath and anxious that he can't ask the people at the desk where the birth center is. By the time he gets to the center, his wife has already given birth to a lovely son. She doesn't feel bad that he was too late, but that's mostly the pain medications talking. He'll get it later from her, and he _knows_ it.

So, he walks off to that room with the big glass window and attempts to find his new child. He knows it's a boy, not that fat one, or that skinny one, or that one with the knobby little fingers and toes. Or at least he thinks so, until he sees the tag on the fat blobs foot and notices the resemblance in the last name. Then my father, with a twinkle in his eye and the look of wisdom on his face, said the sort of thing that makes any son who hears it a hero and a leader. Every time I went to the hospital, the staff always remembered me and the thing my father said. The look at me in awe, wondering how I could have such a father. He said, "Is that fatso mine?"

I actually don't really know about too many other births and how they happened, having experienced it first-hand only once. Oh, I've seen other births on the telly. One lady had a baby in a bathtub, another had something called a c-section, while another plopped out Siamese twins. Siamese twins are cool. There once was a pair that were only attached by a two-inch piece of skin. They got married and had about ten kids apiece, or something like that. Anyways, like I said, my birth was pretty regular. Nothing really that special happened to me.

As a child, I was dropped on my head the usual allotted amount, and I had my own fair-share of falling down the stairs. The stairs weren't too bad. They were the type that went down three stories in a spiral. I would pick up speed as I went down, then would slow down on each floor when I reached the step that separated the floor from the staircase. Sometimes if I was lucky the door to the basement would be closed, which would save me an extra flight of stairs.

My parents were almost never home. They would be out at work or some sort of party, and they never bothered to hire a babysitter. I sometimes wondered if they even knew I existed. When I started to wonder about such things I would settle down to a half-gallon of ice-cream, a tub of popcorn, and play some computer. Least to say I wasn't the skinniest of children, so I didn't quite understand how they couldn't notice me when they had to walk around me. Still, they were my parents, and I loved them. How could you not love parents that let you eat Twinkies all the time?

So there I was, a fat, bald, little blob living mostly alone in a three story house. The imagination of a little child in such a big house just invokes thought. A child with such circumstances would certainly come out to be a person of great thought and intellect. His grasp of calculus, history, geography, and language would excel all the other children in school. He would be bumped from first year elementary to first year high school, and would finish college with no less then three doctorates. All that he had to do, was at his young age let his mind soar with imagination. I watched television and let Barney think for me.

Well, that was the majority of my life. I didn't make many friends to say the least, but what I lacked in friends I made up for in brains. That's right, I was the smartest kid in the block. I was the first kid to figure out how to open those cabinets with the child safety locks. I could get a hold of all those funny liquids like ammonia, window wash, and a bunch of other soaps that your not supposed to drink. Which I did.

To be continued... The more response I get the more I will write.


End file.
